jane-eyre

where I stood, and having examined me with the two inquisitive-looking
grey eyes which twinkled under a pair of
bushy brows, said solemnly, and in a bass voice, ‘Her size is
small: what is her age?’
‘Ten years.’
‘So much?’ was the doubtful answer; and he prolonged
his scrutiny for some minutes. Presently he addressed me—
‘Your name, little girl?’
‘Jane Eyre, sir.’
In uttering these words I looked up: he seemed to me a
tall gentleman; but then I was very little; his features were
large, and they and all the lines of his frame were equally
harsh and prim.
‘Well, Jane Eyre, and are you a good child?’
Impossible to reply to this in the affirmative: my little
world held a contrary opinion: I was silent. Mrs. Reed answered
for me by an expressive shake of the head, adding
soon, ‘Perhaps the less said on that subject the better, Mr.
Brocklehurst.’
‘Sorry indeed to hear it! she and I must have some talk;’
and bending from the perpendicular, he installed his person
in the arm- chair opposite Mrs. Reed’s. ‘Come here,’ he
said.
I stepped across the rug; he placed me square and straight
before him. What a face he had, now that it was almost on a
level with mine! what a great nose! and what a mouth! and
what large prominent teeth!
‘No sight so sad as that of a naughty child,’ he began, ‘especially
a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked
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